


Mortem Obire

by BD99



Series: Tumblr Prompts [13]
Category: Sin With Me (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Bullying, Character Death, Dysfunctional Relationships, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, MC Turned Evil, Magical Tattoos, Major Character Injury, Out of Character, Post-Possession, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Rape/Non-con Elements, Scars, Self-Hatred, Self-Mutilation, Soul Selling, Threats of Violence, Toxic Relationships, Trauma, Unhealthy Relationships, dark au, ritual scarring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:46:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27935689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BD99/pseuds/BD99
Summary: Or was it murdered? She didn’t even remember anymore. No, the wolf like grin permanently marked upon her flesh with scar and ink was very special. Each tooth was a life of host and demon both, of those who had seen the end. The final moments. The sacrifice. When Pride had become Rae’s mantle. When Rae had ceased to be anything and everything.
Relationships: Onyx Wren/Yvette Holte, Vinca Wren/MC
Series: Tumblr Prompts [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1940980
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	1. Mea Culpa

**Author's Note:**

> PROMPT: Hi Evoe, can I ask for you to write this RaexVinca fic? The request is where Rae made deal with demons by giving up ability to feel touch to obtain darkness and light powers so she can keep up with Vinca and her friends. However, demon magic corrupt Rae’s soul. Rae went dark and betray her lover by using Vinca’s knife to kill her so she can become Pride and take her mind reading power. Rae made it looks like it’s from Vuzgamad’s ambush and claimed that Vinca made her a successor before her death
> 
> WARNINGS:  
> Violence  
> Blood  
> Broken Bones  
> Psychological Abuse  
> Verbal Abuse  
> Strong Language  
> A whistle  
> Strong Language  
> Morbid Idolization

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mea Culpa - Through my Fault.

What Yvette dragged out of the bar was not human. Not anymore. It was a tapestry of torn, mutilated flesh. Of fury and indifference mixed into the most toxic being to draw breath. It was pain personified, five foot two and perhaps 100 pounds soaking wet worth of utter agony. Something so utterly twisted, so broken, that just a glance could cause tears to leak from one’s eyes like blood from a serial killer’s knife.

The woman’s head was almost entirely void of hair, covered instead by rows of raised scar tissue from hairline to the back of her neck. Burned and clawed into the skin. The faintest hint of grey bloomed between each row, stubborn black hairs regrowing amidst the pain. This only made the stark white tissue stand out more prominently, especially against bronze-tinged skin. The self-mutilation didn’t end there. Her now pointed ears were uneven, the healed edges bubbly with regrown flesh. Reminiscent of a goblin; an inhuman monster. It was not a clean, surgical modification. Instead, it appeared as if earrings had been torn from open wounds. Again and again until even calling her ears human was a stretch of the imagination. Through each was ring, jewellery far finer than her actual appearance. An echo from the past, of someone else’s past.

Rae Wren, or what was left of her, gave no fight. In fact, she strode with a wicked smirk across her lips, a glimmer of unnaturally sharpened, wolf like teeth gleaming behind blackened lips. The pattern of teeth continued along her lower face to her ear, carved like the lines across her head, then outlined with ink, each point a tattooed monstrosity representing those she had killed. They weren’t for human lives; those were far too simple. Too easy to erase and forget. To replace. One warm body was like another. Breakable. Disposable. Prisons of utter filth for her to pick and choose. It was almost like shopping for chastity belts or cock traps to keep her little demonic slaves in check whilst she played. And played, and played and played... or was it murdered? She didn’t even remember anymore. No, the wolf like grin permanently marked upon her flesh with scar and ink was very special. Each tooth was a life of host and demon both, of those who had seen the end. The final moments. The sacrifice. When Pride had become Rae’s mantle. When Rae had ceased to be anything and everything.

The other demons and humans had their places across her body. Each a line for the demonic veins that should have marked her body. Everybody knew she was a demon, even demons. At this point, she was a whisper in the realms of hell. The devil awaiting every demon who dared rise. Lucifer may have been the terror of man, but Rae, but the Proud Wren, was the terror of nightmares. It had once been said no mortal could make a demon beg, could make a demon fear or willingly return to hell. Rae had taken those words to heart, then proven otherwise. She had proven again, and again and again and again. Until her mere name was proof enough. Nevermind her loving attentions to her adoptive siblings.

But apparently someone still didn’t get the memo.

“You can’t keep doing this, Rae!” Yvette’s words were low, a hiss as much as a sigh. That was so Yvette. So broken herself, so naive. So hooked on her dreams and submerged in her fears. Once, Rae had admired Yvette’s strength. How she was unafraid and stood up to demons. Now... now Rae knew the truth. Yvette was the worst type of coward. She wasn’t even in denial. She was so utterly oblivious that it was almost laughable. Simply sitting next to Yvette for five minutes was a hoot. Popcorn worthy... if popcorn had still had flavour.

“I doubt anybody is going to stop me. You won’t.” Rae retorted, lips peeling further away from her teeth. The reveal of pink may have been a relief, a reminder of her humanity. Yvette flinched as Rae’s artificially forked tongue poked out, splitting around a splatter of blood across her lip. Blood which was not her own. Catlike, she lifted her bloodied knuckles to her tongue, smirking around her mouthful as she lapped at her tarnished skin.

“You’re going to get sick off of that.”

“Well, heaven won’t want me, and the devil has a restraining order against me.”

“Ever wondered what it must take for demons to fear you.”

“I did dethrone your pathetic little act, didn’t I? Hashtag, so sad.” Rae mocked, her lips turning into an exaggerated pout. One she emphasised with fingers pulling on the corners of her mouth and a sluggish drop of her shoulders.

“If you keep doing this, I won’t come for you. I’ll leave you to deal with the police again. Then you won’t get to continue your little vigilante act, Rae.” Yvette’s tone was firm, her brows lowered dangerously over blazing azure eyes.

Oh, it was adorable. A good effort. Truly. Solid jaw, dangerous eyes, crowding her space. All an A plus mark in big girl intimidation...

“You won’t.” Rae laughed, almost ready to collapse with her malicious mirth.

“You’ll try, sure, but we both know you’ll fail. You need me, Yvette. I’m sure only one who can ever truly understand you. The others try, they really do, but none of them have really been there... have they? You and I are the founders of the killed your girlfriend club... so, unless you want to encourage some homicide of the human variety, you’re stuck with me as your therapist. Of course, you could always fix that with just a little kiss. Get your special badge back.” Rae taunted, leaning a little closer with pursed lips, taunting further.

She was so close; Rae could feel it. The way Yvette’s body warmed, teasing Rae’s skin like sunlight on a spring’s day. Refreshing. Comforting. Just like a hug from the latest murder victim. Who cared if the hug was post-mortem... wait, perhaps the warmth was blood then... maybe Yvette’s little tantrum was more akin to demon dust fluttering across Rae’s naked body? Warm with death, ripe with fear and justice... the tingly kind of delightful. Fun and morally responsible. A two for one deal.

“You didn’t kill her. That wa-”

“My own deal to help save your girlfriends ass. I chose to help family and look where it got me. No family. No fiancée. Very little humanity. I’ve gotten more reward for hurting people than I ever got for helping... so thanks for the reminder, but you already know the drill. I’m naughty, you come play mommy, your breathing reminds me I lost everything I ever loved saving your sexy finger warmer. It’s a whole thing.” Rae sighed, pausing long enough to lift a hand to her shades between shrugs.

Cold, lifeless eyes gazed from behind expensive sunglasses, the ones from Vinca Wren’s last project. Rae’s eyes were so scarred, so utterly void of humanity that even Yvette shuddered. Rae’s pupil was more reminiscent of an ink droplet, running into the whites in little sickly veins. The pattern of an infection. What once had been soft, gentle browns had hardened, as if the pigment had been drawn from them until only the yellows of the shade remained. Rare veins and streaks of brown remained, lightning bolts within the everlasting storm of grief.

“If you hate me so much...”

“Why stick around? Oh Yvette, its nothing personal, babe. Pride’s honor.” Rae began, pausing to slide those precious shades into a hardcase hidden within her jacket. Her hands were so gentle with those shades, fingertips lingering as if she might project her touch through time and space, as if somehow Vinca might feel her affections. A moment the world allowed her before the sound of footsteps echoed. The snap of the case was the snap back to reality, a snap which echoed off of the old brickwork. The first beacon. The second was a silver whistle, chipped and worn, one which Yvette was already reaching to slap out of Rae’s hand as the fallen assassin laughed.

“You’re just the best bait.”

Then the whistle sounded.

A short blow, then a longer one, then a short one again. An SOS. One wavering with Rae’s laughter. The whistle sounded only thrice before it was slapped aside, Yvette huffing and puffing furiously.

“You’re a special kind of cunt, Rae!” The Greed assassin growled; decorum lost to her outrage. Rae could already see it, the torn loyalties waging war within Yvette’s blazing blue eyes. The misguided belief in Rae despite everything. It was so obvious, from clenching jaw to pained eyes, how desperately Yvette wanted to avoid this. How it pained her to let Onyx suffer around the corner, just as much as it pained her to war against Rae. In the past, Rae may have broken at such a thing, at such a display. At Yvette letting her heart beat for two sides. For a sister and a lover. Now, it was all merely an annoyance. Not what Rae needed.

“Dawww... don’t you want to go save your girl?” She cooed, before raising her voice.

“Here, puppy, puppy. We know you like it rough, so come play... I may not be Dorran, but I can probably hit as hard. I can even entertain your emotional whore kink!”

The shing of a blade leaving its scabbard was the only warning Rae had before she was sent staggering by a burst of heat delivered in a solid punch to the gut. Before she could even right herself, the slap of the scabbard across her face forced her back another few stumbling steps. There it was. The snap. The goal she’d had for weeks. Weeks of volatile behaviour. Misbehaving a little too close to Yvette’s secrets. Once, it was a line she’d never have crossed. Once, those young lives held meaning to Rae. All life did. Now? Now it was all ash in her mouth. A thirst she could never slake, not that she truly wanted to. Afterall, Assassins fought demons, and Rae had worked incredibly hard to perfect her mutilated appearance. To leave no illusions that she was truly a demon in human skin, even if none from the depths of hell would touch her... well, now she had her own little slice of hell. All fired up, enraged, protective even. Lunging with her blade with the intent to harm. Maybe this time, it would be enough.

Yvette was not like the other assassins. They all fought with a sense of honor. Each had things too low for their heroics. Yvette held no such qualms. She struck high and low, lunging and twisting. A single foot out of place was punished by blade and heels, driving Rae backwards. It was an exquisite dance. Duck. Weave. Twist. A thrust of Yvette’s blade. Countered by a duck and a jab to the ribs. A quick hand was at Yvette’s wrist, twisting her arm aside, tearing her guard down for Rae’s following punch to the tender gut. Break it down, bruise it, take the air from Yvette’s body. For her efforts, Rae received a backhanded slap in response. The echo of gloved hand against flesh was accompanied by matching screams, two immensely powerful individuals reduced to hissing and screeching like fighting cats in heat.

Yvette was again the first to strike out, a wild slash of her blade. Rae ducked, falling right into the precise thrust of the scabbard straight to the collar. She shoulda read that. It was too easy to reach out, to capture every thought flittering through Yvette’s mind. From there, it was a different dance. Yvette could no longer land the blows, yet Rae’s shorter range kept her from truly inflicting any harm. The dance switched from snakes slithering under one another’s guard and striking out with fast blows into wolves circling one another. Assessing. Manoeuvring. Rae didn’t need to keep her eyes on Yvette, in fact doing so was playing the game. So, Rae waited, allowing Yvette to slink around her, letting Yvette find the faux opening... then launch.

Yvette was fast. Rae was faster. A twist later she had her left arm hooked over Yvette’s, forcing the blade to pass her. A swift toss back of her head saw Yvette’s nose broken, bloodied. Tears blinding those remarkably clear blues. Snot and blood choking her. Rae followed through with her elbow, driving it straight into Yvette’s throat. It was calculated. Too hard would kill her, too gentle wouldn’t be enough to drop her. Greed fell to her knees, spitting blood over Rae’s boots. Pride wasn’t done. A tug on Yvette’s trapped arm had Greed falling into Rae’s rising knee. The blow sent Yvette sprawling to the ground, into the grease and muck like some common drug addict. Like the homeless orphan Yvette had once been.

“How does it feel, Yvette? To be back here?” Rae mocked, kicking the lethal blade aside. The clattering of the weapon filled the alleyway, a sound far too familiar for Rae. The Pride assassin flinched, drawing back from the sound for only a moment. Then, it was so much worse.

“Rae! STOP!”

Rae’s teeth clashed together, biting back the enraged scream as she turned towards her worst nightmare.

Onyx Wren. Five foot nothing of gorgeous blonde bombshell. A little fuckwit wearing the face of Vinca... only Onyx couldn’t wear it right. Her bold, neon makeup was a child’s game at beauty, like a toddler playing with mommy’s makeup from her teenage Scene phase. Onyx was all cherub and sweet, with eyes the colour of sunlight through an ocean wave. Figures Onyx would represent the water beneath the skies that Vinca embodied. She was never better than Vinca, never appreciative. She’d let Vinca endure it all. To save her own pathetic skin, Onyx had let Vinca be condemned. Over and over. Now, she pranced about, the good girl. The grieving sister. Forgiven for putting her abuser above Vinca, even in death. Onyx was the sister who let Vinca throw everything that truly mattered away and repaid her with vicious rumour.

She dared? She fucking dared! She dared show her face after everything, to rip into Rae’s chest all over again. It was a holocaust in her heart, memory after memory dragged into the chamber feeding her agony. Each felt like a death all over again. A blow to her chest unlike any physical pain. A lance into the side of a great beast, until said beast was reduced to a feral being. Onyx’s fucking face took Rae’s breath, brought her to her knees before the jeering crowd. It tore Pride down, leaving only a screaming, sobbing wreck behind.

“Fuck off!” Rae screamed, tearing her vocal cords with the strength of her cry. It was torn from her churning, bruised gut, loud enough to drown out the monotonous drill of cars. The former Mechanic howled, hands brought to her scarred head, nails dragging down the scars in practiced desperation. The teeth carved from the corner of her mouth to her ears began to glow, illuminated a deathly bone white. The glow spread, radiating across every scar, until the veins stood stark against her skin, a homage to the demon she swore was within. It was a terrifying duet with every tattooed line, shadows now. Or rather, the complete absence of colour and light. The void left behind in Rae’s heart given physical form.

“You have to let go, Rae. Please. We all lost-”

“I CAN’T!” Rae’s cry cut Onyx’s sentence short. Her hands fell to the ground, fingers clawing the asphalt as if she might find something, anything, to settle her tornado of an existence. On her hands and knees, the Pride assassin once more looked small. Broken. Defeated. So lost and helpless. Her back curled, shoulders caving beneath the weight of her angst. Her forehead met the ground, taking comfort in the greasy coolness for a few seconds before she defiantly lifted her head, fixing Onyx with a look of pure, seething hatred.

Envy looked cut to the bone, deeper than all of Rae’s torments. All her jabs and digs. Every secret she had gleefully sung to the other Assassins, publicly tearing Onyx down. Publicly shaming her, shaming all of them. All the assassins were fucking idiots. They hadn’t seen what was unfolding right beneath their noses, too content to gripe about a harsh leader as Onyx begged for him to stop. As she concealed his darkness to preserve a fantasy. As she was morphed into his little punching bag. His little victim. The Harley Quinn to his Joker. With Onyx’s secrets, Rae had torn all the Assassins down, brought them to their knees weeping, then strutted across the corpses of their self-esteem. She wasn’t Vinca. She didn’t care about these people. About what was right and wrong. They’d all condemned Vinca. All willingly cast her out rather than face reality. If they hadn’t, if Onyx had just spoken...

“It’s all your fucking fault.” Rae no longer sobbed, she snarled, a tapestry of shadow and light, a monster digging into Onyx’s brain, wrenching everything to the forefront in the hopes just one memory flashed across Onyx’s conscious.

“You may have been happy to let her go. I refuse to. I won’t. You’ll have to tear her from my cold, dead ha-” whatever melodramatics Rae had planned were interrupted by an enraged scream, followed by the swing of something straight into her temple. The Pride assassin teetered, forearms trembling to hold her weight for but a moment before she fell, surrendering to the abyss.

Perhaps this time, things would be better in the void.


	2. contra spem spero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> contra spem spero - I hope against hope

****************************** 3 years Ago ******************************

She was so tired. It was something which went deeper than a mere sleep could repair. The weight of the world was constantly upon her shoulders; dragging her chest down towards her gut. Her heart felt as if every beat was sluggish, a constant painful rock in her chest, yet one she could not feel. Rather, she felt the absence of her heart, the pain stopping only there, whilst her lungs were further tormented. Even here, with sweat running down her body, leaving her hair stuck to her forehead as if it were a layer of paper mashe upon a child’s sculpture. Even with her blood rushing through her veins, muscles screaming with ever hurried stride she took, her heart did not warm. Each beat sent a pulse of cold through Rae’s body, a seeping despair she was continuously clawing her way out of. Only to find herself somewhere far... darker.

Tendrils of that darkness drove her onwards, pulling and pushing each muscle as Rae desperately just tried to stop. She was so tired. All she wanted to do was collapse, to fall into Vinca’s arms and just feel the embrace. Feeling. It wasn’t so long ago Rae had taken it for granted. Now, it was simply gone. Forever. It was her sacrifice for the abilities she had gained. For what had allowed her to save Vinca time and time again. What had allowed her to save Onyx, Vinca’s twin sister. The power over light and shadow, and the temperatures they could bring. Durability to stand against Vinca’s foes, the strength to protect. If only such a thing hadn’t cost so much. Touch. The ability to ever feel another’s touch ever again. It had rendered Rae’s hands useless, for no longer could she feel a pulse, nor how deep wounds were. Without touch, she couldn’t heal anybody. Couldn’t help them. Couldn’t feel when she hurt them. All she had ever been, gone. Taken from her in a deal she had barely understood in her desperation. She’d tried. She tried so hard to continue on. To pretend touch wasn’t so important. But, night after night, she watched Vinca’s pleasure without ever being able to feel it. She held Vinca close, without ever being able to feel her. The simplicity of holding hands was robbed from her. No, not robbed. She’d given it up in a foolish moment of insecurity, convinced it was to save Vinca’s life. To save Onyx’s life. That was a pretty small comfort now. She just wanted a hug, darn it! No, not darn it. Darn was close, but not what she truly wanted to say. Fuck it. FUCK. IT. She just wanted one fucking hug she could feel. Just one to remind her she was still tethered to this world.

“I’ve got you.” Vinca’s huff in Rae’s ear was accompanied by a sense of flying. Of floating. There was no more pain in her muscles, that migrated to her chest. She wanted to scream, to tell Vinca to stop. That this was wrong. This was all a trap. All dangerous. Something was screaming within her, writhing against the darkness, the tendrils... fighting to be the voice dominating her brain. Even that was murky. The river of the Nile running red with blood. Her blood. Vinca’s blood... maybe if it was Vinca’s she wouldn’t be alone anymore.

_“-I wouldn’t be... I’d feel her again. Something. Anything. It’s not like she told me. Nobody told me! Vinca cheated this and couldn’t even tell me until I’d already paid the fucking price... does she really deserve- NO! Stop! What am I doing? I love her! This isn’t me! I c-can’t hurt her!-”_

Rae’s war didn’t end there. A droopy blink later, she registered the feeling of metal beneath her fingers. A kunai. One of Vinca’s weapons from her collar. The blade so close to Vinca’s jugular vein... whilst the Assassin was oblivious. So utterly clueless, or so utterly trusting of her devoted fiancée. Fiancée... they had a life together, a life to live. Years to figure this out. All Rae had to do was hold on, was fight as hard as Vinca had.

“It’s back, Vinc... I almost...”

“I know. Your heart isn’t cold yet, Unco, so stay with me. There’s still time, and I will never give up on you. It’s not our style.” Vinca’s voice was firm, the great wall of China between Rae’s doubts and her conscious. It was only the sound of lips smacking and the momentary loss of breath which let Rae know Vinca had leaned close, had pressed a kiss to her lips. What type of kiss? Was it one flavoured with desperation? Was it biting, Vinca demanding Rae’s submission? Was it tender and sweet? The brush of morning breath and vulnerability only Rae ever experienced? Bitter tears of frustration fell silently from her dark eyes, bathing Vinca’s shoulder as they continued further into the warehouse.

“Yeah... not our style.” Rae muttered in agreement. After all, what else could she do but believe?


	3. compos mentis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> compos mentis - in control of the mind

“Mom!” Rae didn’t know how much time had passed before they stumbled upon the scene. The warehouse was oppressive, dark walls and metal boxes towering above her head. Crushing. Just like her dreams, or lack thereof. Just like the distance forced between her and Vinca. Her breath seemed to fog the cold, stale air. Air which sat across her skin, cloying with dense moisture, as if breathing with her nose half submerged. Everything was so heavy, a thick blanket of smog within her head. A whisper, an undercurrent, vicious and unyielding beneath the gentle surface of a river. The undercurrent dragging on her, urging her to drown, to surrender and see where her body might land.

One slow blink.

Hopefully Vinca would catch it. Catch her.

Joyce sat upon a simple black chair; her hands bound to the arms. Ankles tied to the legs. Rusted wires appeared to eat into her flesh, reinforced by murky, off-white rope. It was all stained, befouled, crusted with blood. In the glow of a low, swinging light, she was a ghastly sight. Skinnier than ever before, cheeks gaunt, eyes shadowed. Her hair, greying at the roots, was a massacre of mats and patches, as if chunks had been torn and slashed in unpractised rage. Clothes flowed across her body, hanging like sheets of water from a waterfall touched by a time stopping curse. Unfortunately, whilst the clothes had remained unaffected by time, the body had not. The living skeletal remains were a horror, drawing shallow breath between agonised coughs.

Vinca could only stare in utter horror, face paling as she stared at the echo of her mother-in-law. Sure, Joyce and she were akin to oil and water at times, but this woman was kind. She was loyal, dedicated and the mother of the woman Vinca adored with all her chipped heart. Seeing this was... horrifying. Almost as horrifying as Rae’s slow, listless movements. She walked as though she had been sedated. A zombie like shuffle. A hollow impersonation of motion. Why was she not bolting? It was as if she were approaching a corpse, or a sleeping child. Tentative. Burdened. The eerie silence was deafening, even when Rae collapsed to her knees at her Mother’s feet. Why? Why was it so quiet? So foreboding? With her continued listlessness, Rae wrapped her bruised hands over Joyce’s bony knees, caressing with slow arcs of her thumb. It was the most life she had shown yet.

“I’m here, Mother.” Rae’s words had Vinca tensing. Since when did Rae ever call her mom mother? Since when did she speak in such a flat tone? Such a... lost voice?

“My girl. My sweet, obedient, lovely girl. Exactly as promised.” Joyce’s voice was wrong. Strong despite the broken body. A rasp. A hiss. Praise dripping from honeyed words on a dusky, sultry tone. This was all so fucking wrong. This... thing could not be Joyce. Not at all. It had to be someone, something far darker. Something looking at Rae not as a child, but as a pawn... or a prize. Vinca’s thoughts died in her own mind as she watched that decrepit thing lift it’s disgusting hand, bindings sliding away like water across a duck’s feather. The coils of a snake retreating rapidly as the serpent fled. Long, bony fingers caressed Rae’s cheek, tucking erratic strands of hair behind out turned ears. A gesture so intimate that Vinca felt her own stomach turn. Oh hell no. Fucking hell no. That was HER thing. HERS! Not anybody else’s. Even Joyce didn’t touch Rae. Not like that. Were that the end of it, Vinca may have been able to cope. But no. With a smile far too inhumane to be anything but a demon, “Joyce” lifted Rae’s cheek, fingertips digging into her flesh as it almost dragged the girl from her knees... then pressed their lips together.

“What the fuck?!” Vinca heard herself cry out, but she was lost, blacking out. Recoiling from how fucking wrong this was. Enough to make her skin feel as if wasps were swarming beneath, even as spiders ran across the outside. As if both bit and stung, with her skin the only shield to tear away. It wasn’t as if the kiss was particularly dirty, or even sexual. It was something intimate though, at least, whatever was playing Joyce treated it as such. Bony fingers cradled Rae’s face, keeping her tilted up, keeping her trapped. An echo of humanity that didn’t quite translate. Tender fingers were just a little too aloof, too awkward, robotic... demonic. And Rae... Rae was as still as the most tormented statue, eyes closed lightly, jaw clenched as if biting down upon a bit. Bridled. Reined in. Internally at war whilst maintaining unearthly poise. Trapped within the kiss of a demon.

Demon! No, not just any demon would play such games, would do something so... no. Only one name burned upon Vinca’s tongue.

“Vuzgamad.” She growled, body burning impossibly bright, flushing her skin a deep red even beneath her flawless foundation.

“Hear that, my pride and joy? She’s finally realised. How masterfully you played your role, my little trap. So much torment for the perfect moment.” Vuzgamad laughed, withdrawing from the kiss with an all too pleased grin. It was such an unnatural expression upon Joyce’s face. Too large, too toothy, almost laughable if not for the deathly glow of her eyes.

“You, Vinca, have been a very good little assassin, but a very bad Pride. Dorran was always so open to our little deals. To keeping Yvette chained. To keeping your sister away from her true power. Of course, he didn’t want to let her become Pride. He was quite a selfish bastard. We didn’t know what YOU might become if you were to be Envy... a dragon... so remarkable... but such a child’s fantasy for little Nitsa to try and archive. Handled so childishly too. Poor girl. So young and already so arrogant. She has always been so short sighted. So, after she started interfering with my poor Yvette, I simply had to interfere. But how? Rae was so perfect for the job. So willing to protect you. Its only after all of this she recognised that your presence was an interference. Both for the assassins, and for my poor little Yvette. Rae, my little Pride, why don’t you tell Vinca what’s about to happen. Keeping this body so haggard is quite a chore.”

“Yvette needs support. A protector. A guardian. Someone to help her to her full potential. That’s what YOU were meant to do, Vinc. She’s going to be devastated whe- RUN!” Rae’s body vibrated, the final word gurgling as if she were choking on her own tongue. Instinctively, Vinca reached, extending her hand as if she might pull Rae from the darkness... yet there was nothing. No mind to meet, no thoughts to grab, simply a murkiness that slid through Vinca’s fingers. Slime, muck and water, cool and unpleasant across her senses. She was sinking. Drowning. Small and alone within a cage. Tired. So very tired. If she just closed her eyes...


	4. aegri somnia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aegri somnia - A sick man's dreams.

****** 3 years later ******

Opening her eyes was the same old act of pain it always was. A rinse and repeat of disappointment, the sting of salt in her lashes. Rae refused to admit they were tears. Not now. Not ever. Especially in her present company.

Caleb North. Irish American asshole extradentare, with a face like a cat had pissed on his favourite heeled boots. Seriously, what men even wore high heeled boots, especially bedazzled with teal, and claimed they were 100% straight? He was such a pretty boy, with effortlessly styled hair he seemed to simply wake up with, that lean Irish jaw and laddish charm hidden beneath an all-year long impersonation of the Grinch. And the hatred in his eyes, those deep, pretty blue eyes. Darker than Vinca’s, thankfully. Smaller. More like glass beads than sapphires. That didn’t mean the hatred within them wasn’t the least bit painful. So different, yet the concept of such ugliness ever touching Vinca’s visage was abhorrent. Enough that Rae would sooner gouge out Caleb’s eyes than let such a thing exist. Oh... that probably wasn’t very human of her. To make others pay the price for her pain... but hey, millionaires got away with paying $750 tax. What was one pair of eyes compared to a world of corruption?

“Stay still.” Caleb’s growl was low, rough with violent intent. A command as much as a warning. Rae simply smiled. Oh, the things she could see flashing across his mind, how he imagined just erasing her. Be done with it. Be over the drama. Every deep, dark little revenge fantasy playing like Netflix ads behind his eyes, and now hers. Hypocrisy at its finest. He’d start with the fingers. They all would. It was such a cliche in the world of torment and revenge that Rae laughed every time she saw someone think it. So freaking predictable. He didn’t take kindly to her barking, to her malicious glee at his expense, yet by his own code he was powerless to do anything but sit there and take it like a good little boy. Further predictability, further patheticness. Seriously, it was almost like an STD amongst the trope. Without any of the fun, rolling around in the hay, getting down and dirty... well, maybe Onyx and Darius had cross contamination. Ugh. That was so not an image anybody needed.

With an almost bored sigh, she chanced a glance down at her hands, let Caleb’s mind become his own. Wrist to elbow were wrapped in chains, each link the scale of a steel serpent keeping her immobilised. Metal. Possibly Darius’ chains. That was smart. After all, the last time they’d used rope, Rae had burned it through in a matter of minutes. That had the delicious bonus of incapacitating several of the troop members with PTSD surrounding flames. She could melt these chains too, if she truly wanted to, but... oh, that was good. Very, very good. Had to be Yvette. Onyx was too kind, Wrath too dumb, Darius was busy being a bag of demonic hormones, Malakai had too much respect for the magic in her ink and Caleb didn’t give enough of a fuck to learn how to play off her emotions. But even Yvette wasn’t heartless. Across Rae’s fingers remained her armor, an interlock of bronze and leathers. A thousand little blades. The closest to touch she could ever truly have after... oh. That was Onyx. Stupid, wonderful... fuck her! Rae was ready to cut a bitch. How dare she give her pity now? Have some spine now?!

She waited, staring at the little locks of blades across her fingers. How the hooked tip of one played perfectly into the guard of another. It had been a puzzle, a passion project. Running her fingers across each of Vinca’s blades, bleeding upon them as if it might absolve her. Finally, armouring her fingers. No wedding band could compare, although the slither of diamond peeping out from her ring finger was proof enough she wore one. Not when every finger was bound in the remnants of Vinca’s soul. It was an oath unlike any other Rae made. Vinca was behind every punch, every blow. The motivation and the force. Continuing to protect her even from beyond the grave. Amidst all the violence, the mutilation and agony, the promise made by blades was perhaps the purest thing left of her. If purity was considered positivity.

“It must eat you alive, Caleb... that you were so close, and yet so far away from knowing what Dorran was doing to her.” Rae began, lips twitching into an utterly sadistic grin at Cal’s discomfort. He held firm, not engaging in her games, which simply wouldn’t do. Oh, the corners of his eyes crinkled, and his brows fell into an adorable attempt of intimidation. One Rae would have fallen for, once. Funny, after looking into the face of hell, humanity had become the most frightening of things, yet the individual human was just so... lackluster.

“Do you think Avi fell asleep to her screams?”

“Shut the fuck up.” Cal growled, stepping closer, playing the game. That was better. Exactly what Rae wanted. A good little soldier boy.

“No Dorran. Please. No. Stop. It hurts.” Her voice pitched, giving a mocking impersonation of Onyx. That alone had Cal’s teeth bared, his eyes widening in utter horror. A memory flashing through his mind, one buried, explained away. Then another, and another. A cascading effect playing behind blue windows to a soul almost as tormented as her own.

“What guardian lets THAT be a lullaby for their child? Is that why you try so hard to sing? To try and help Avi forget the sound of his favourite woman being assaulted in the next room? Over and over again.” Rae paused, only for the dramatic effect. She had him, she didn’t even need to read his mind to know she’d brushed something. Honestly, it was almost more fun this way. Not plucking the answers out of his head like candy from a bowl at the Drs Office. An office which may have been hers if she’d only sold her soul figuratively instead of literally.

“Are you scared he’ll grow up to do the same thing?”

She barely registered Cal’s scream, nor the pain of his kick to her head, honestly those heeled monstrosities he called boots were so utterly, ridiculously extra, only that through blurred eyes another figure joined them. She smiled, a toothy, almost genuine smile. An echo from the past, from innocence stolen.

“Hey kid?” She asked Avi, her voice lighter than clouds or fluff on toast. The sticky sweet no child could resist, even with their guardian trying to usher them away. She had his rapt attention, held his sanity suspended in the moment of her whims... sanity she didn’t much care for.

“Want to see a magic trick?”

With her features obscured by shadows, only the glint of her armor along with the glow of her markings were clear. A ghost; a haunting in a horror film appearing from nothing in a slow blaze of light. She was the wolf baring down in every nightmare. With teeth gleaming and eyes glowing, an image of Halloween. The big bad coming to devour, and she let that shine. All her pain, her hatred and apathy aligned into a casual flex of her power. She allowed her mask to glow, just enough to appear truly terrifying to an innocent soul... and she knew she’d succeeded when the little boy let out a terrified shriek.

She never saw the second blow.


	5. Memento Mori

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Memento Mori - Remember that you will die.

“Yvette is going to be devastated when you’re gone, Vinca. It only makes sense that Rae steps up, tries to comfort her best friend. It will be glorious, a love story for the ages. Born of tragedy, the dead best friend’s fiancée becoming the love of our heroine’s life. Of course, they will try to deny the feelings… Afterall, I killed you right in front of our new little Pride, she couldn’t save you, couldn’t save anyone. Rae is going to be so tragically broken… but her feelings will just be too strong for her to deny. Of course, this’ll only be once Yvette is nearly driven insane by her own longing for just ONE normal thing in her fucked up little life. Just like a fairy-tale, Yvette won’t be able to hurt Rae… not after Rae was able to “kill” me, to find a loophole in Yvette’s curse. Perhaps she’ll expose that with a kiss, on the anniversary of your death, over your grave. As if you blessed it from the beyond. Extra incentive to leave your little twin behind.” Vuzgamad’s taunting voice was enough to have Vinca hissing between blows. The demon was so sure, so confident as she lounged in a stolen body, across a dingy chair as if it were the unholy throne of hell. Honestly, who the fuck did this bitch think she was? Vinca would have snapped back, have retaliated, if Rae’s punch hadn’t come so close to connecting, only diverted by her sloppier form. The puppeteer too inexperienced, or the mind not committed. That didn’t render her completely ineffective, not when the shadows played on the edge of Vinca’s vision one moment, and the next she was blinded. She should have been blinded, only the fact Rae was fighting with everything left of her prevented that power unleashing, prevented her from completely devouring the current Pride assassin.

“Come on Rae, SNAP OUT OF IT.” Vinca pleaded between gasps, between punches and kicks. Rae advanced viciously, pushing into Vinca’s guard, bringing them to collision after collision. The safest way to give Vinca victory, but also the most costly. Rae was good, too good, stronger in hand to hand than Vinca. It was only Vinca’s blades that granted her leverage, but she didn’t want to use them. How could she? Every time she did, it was another slash across Rae’s flesh. A cut designed to hurt without maiming or slaying, but Rae just kept pushing. A terminator. The worst foe Vinca could ever face. Her heart constricted in her chest, costing her precious time, lowering her guard a second too long. She ducked the next kick, staggered, fell to a knee. Before Rae’s foot even met the ground, she had raised her second in a brutal kick to Vinca’s chest. Had she been human, Vinca knew that kick would have done more than sent her flying, arms flailing, knees bent awkwardly. There was no time to stop, no time to make the answering blow softer. One foot up, a kick from the ground straight into Rae’s groin. She wasn’t a man, but society as a whole always underestimated how painful a kick to the vag truly was. Sure, women were designed to push watermelons out of holes the size of a lemon but come on. Predictably, Rae locked up with a pained grunt, leaving Vinca free to roll free of the conflict. 

“Oh Pride, you sho- NO. Vinc, RUN. Please! I c-can’t…” Rae’s entire body was at conflict. Her voice changed, tone shifting from malicious to pleading. The tears gathered within her dark eyes were not solely due to Vinca’s brutal kick, nor purely heartache. It was the blood of war, blood from a battlefield within her mind spilling through the cracks of a human body. Rae strained; body perfectly exposed. Hesitation. Rebellion. A dare within her eyes. A plea. The perfect opportunity. One Vinca HAD to take. A blade, a flick of the wrist, a bullseye waiting to happen. Until the answering flash of light swallowed the darkness of Rae’s eyes. It burned, a thousand fingers pulling at the fibre of Vinca’s muscles, the molecules in her bones. She screamed, rolled across the cool concrete floor as her soul burned, melted along with the metal of her blade. Said blade fell harmlessly to the concrete floor, bending as softened metal met the hard surface. Severed from Vinca’s soul. Another fragment lost. 

“Like… Hell… Am I… leaving you.” Vinca gasped out, chipped nails biting into the concrete as she pulled herself to her knees. Her once bedazzled eyes were now surrounded by smudged makeup, running eyeliner on trickles of blood. Blush complimented by gravel rash. Scraped, reduced to bared teeth in threat.

“There’s still a little bit of me left? Oh, I sound so convincing, don’t I? Nobody will see this coming, never in a million years. There’s nothing left, you stupi-”

Vinca reached, plunging herself back into the muck that greeted her when she reached for Rae’s mind. She was in a canyon, looking up at the two sides, unable to decipher which side of the chasm she should scale, only that the muck was pulling her down. A quagmire. Stuck. Trapped. But one side was crumbling, falling into the chasm, building it and filling it. It was too much, it was going to crush her if she didn’t run, didn’t get out. GET OUT! Get out, get out, get out! But she couldn’t. It was all too much. Too hard. So much pressure. Crushing and consuming. She was going to die. She was going to drown in this nothingness. She stared at two glaciers, but one was crumbling, sheets of ice falling away into the blackest ocean, which continued to rise, continued to consume. Which should she reach for? What did this even mean? Why? Why was Rae’s mind suddenly so different? At the bottom, a glint of iron caught her eye. Bars of a vicious cage ensnaring a lone form. A figure drowning, clawing at the bars weakly as the ability to fight drained away. Vinca was desperate, screaming in a thousand voices, a thousand tongues across conceivable time as she dug. She dug, hands scooping as she dove into the water, tried to dig deeper into the mud. It was so thick, so heavy in her hands, yet slid as freely as water. Like a dog, she dug, arms blurring as she screamed. A handful thrown aside, two more replaced it. It was futile. Like fighting the rising sun with nothing but a Pinto and a lasso. Still, Vinca had to try. She drove the spurs to the steed. She drunk, trying to swallow the mud, digging the water. Absorb it, take it in, anything! Anything to save Rae. 

A punch to the breast broke her from the musings, earning an enraged shriek mere moments before she responded in kind. Rae squeaked in a similar manner, horror flashing across her face, followed by a flush to her cheeks. Typical of her, to blush like a schoolgirl the moment breasts were involved. Still, she pushed, using her powerful legs to kick through Vinca’s guard, expensive canvas shoes thankfully taking the brunt of Vinca’s slashes. The harder Rae attacked, the further onto the backfoot Vinca was forced. A punch to the face, a slash to the bicep, a death of a thousand cuts. One cut had two souls bleeding, each worth a thousand words that Pride could never express. A kick to the ribs, a slash across the thigh. _Please don’t make me do this._ A knee deflected by a hard forearm, followed by a blow to the chin. _Please run._ A backhand across Rae’s face. Two people flinching _. I’m not leaving you._

“You can try all you want, Vinca, but you can’t stop her unless you kill her... then, there are all these demons.” Vuzgamad pointed out, lifting a little from her makeshift throne. The demons encircling them hissed and snarled, making themselves known as Vinca drew too close to the edge of their temporary arena. They kept her trapped, pushing her back into Rae’s range time and time again, but never once harming her. Never causing her to stagger. It was either a leering blade waved dangerously close, or knuckles cracking beneath wicked bracers. A few even simply cocked guns at her, each grinning wickedly as she stepped back into the arena. Back to fighting her heart. It was all a game. A **_FUCKING_** game. That bubbled in her veins, leading her next blow to land a little too hard across Rae’s chest.

“You know, this was all Rae’s idea. I admit, I never would have put so much effort into ensuring an entire gangs worth of demons prevented you leaving. A stroke of genius, but that’s to be expected. Rae truly thought long and hard on how to pick you apart over our time together. It seems she truly does know you better than anybody alive, as you’ve said. Even Onyx, bless the girl, couldn’t endure the darkness. But Rae? It’s a pity such a virtue has you as her vice… right to the bitter end.” Vuzgamad continued, pausing to snicker at Vinca’s cry of outrage. A slash across a demon’s throat. It fell, offering no resistance. The sound of a gunshot. A crumpled host. Two more demons stepping up, pushing Vinca back with seething hatred beneath their almost gentle movement.   
  
“Do you honestly think you’re doing anything but delaying the inevitable? By hurting Rae, you’re only making it harder for her to fight.” Vuzgamad’s laughter followed another punch to Rae’s nose, one punctuated by a sickly crack. Vinca cringed, leaping backwards as Rae staggered. With a heavy heart she took aim. A flick of her wrist had a blade buried in Rae’s nerves, immobilising the Chinese woman. Before Vinca could even draw a second knife, Rae’s eyes were upon her, the room suddenly darkened, filling her with a chill that ate at her very bones. It was not simply darkness, but the complete absence of light. All save two terrifying eyes. Eyes which seemed to burn, just like the blade in her hand. Just like the blade hidden within Rae’s flesh. Those powers... something so simple yet versatile in Rae’s hands. Something eating at her humanity. The blade was too hot, burning Vinca’s flesh. She screamed, letting the blade fall to the concrete mere moments before her knees did.

The demons around them hissed and snarled, triumph radiating from the hideous visages. Each and every monster was strong and rested, just waiting to pick at the remains. Numerous, beyond what Vinca could see. Beyond what she could read whilst ducking and weaving. Whilst struggling to figure a way out. She couldn’t fight them all, nor could she leave Rae behind. She couldn’t… couldn’t kill Rae. No matter what, no matter how pressured, she simply couldn’t. 

“Accept it, Vinca Wren. One of you is not leaving here alive. Its either you, or her.”

“N- Vinc you have t…” Rae growled, her own hands raised to her eyes, nails biting into her brow as she pressed her palms into her eyesockets. She trembled; a torn flag trapped within a hurricane. A grain of sand upon a landslide, an earthquake. Helpless to it all, no matter how hard she fought.   
  
Vuzgamad was right.

Even if she could beat some sense into Rae, supress what was eroding her, they’d never manage to fight out of this. Sure, the others might find them... but what if they didn’t? Vinca already knew, no matter what, that one of them would be too battered to escape. There it was, laid out so fricken clearly, the trap she’d ensnared herself in. Vinca cussed, tears bitterly trailing down her cheeks. She was only twenty-three. She didn’t want to die. Not here, not like this. An animal in a cage. She screamed, wordlessly, furiously. This was so fucking unfair. She’d given EVERYTHING she had to give. Her soul. Her humanity. Her heart. She’d given everything save the breath in her lungs and it was STILL not enough. What more could be taken from her? Why did fate demand such a thing? Vinca had no doubt Vuzgamad would kill Rae if Vinca herself escaped. Rae was only useful as a tool. For the hearts bound to her... underestimated. As always. Everyone fucking underestimated Rae, right up until she kicked their ass. Fuck. Everyone fucking shat on Rae too, like the most popular latrine in a garrison of soldiers with gastro. So many people passed her up, never bothering to look into those soulful dark eyes, to question what lingered behind them. They underestimated her tenacity. Her intelligence. Her humanity.   
  
Gods, Vinca fucking loved her. It wasn’t just the little underdog scrambling to every victory that was endearing. It was the gentleness in her eyes. How she trusted her heart so fearlessly. How she continued to sacrifice and fight, even when she was almost broken. Even against the erosion to her humanity. She fought. Even when it was hopeless, she fought, and not even for herself. Rae was throwing herself to the metaphoric wolves, willing to die to protect what she loved. Vinca knew Rae understood their situation. She was too smart not to know the moment they walked in. The moment the teeth snapped shut. Rae had tried to shove her own foot into that trap, tried to take the fall, to let herself be slain to spare Vinca an ounce of pain.  
  
It couldn’t be Rae. Vinca realised after one more glance at Rae’s strained features. How her hand trembled, muscles strained as if held taught by ropes from a thousand directions. How desperate she was not to grasp Vinca’s fallen blade. She was so damn beautiful. Dark eyes flashing with her own fury, clarity for brief flashes, lightning of a storm. Lips cut, bleeding with every grimace, soaking her chin. Why? Rae was a virtue in all but power. She was love, she was generosity and kindness and patience. She was EVERYTHING Vinca was not, the counteracting part to a whole that never had truly had the chance to bloom. The whole Vinca would have given more than herself to see recognised. This… this was her heart, already torn from her chest, stolen by the cruellest of fates… but at least she had been given the chance to have a taste of paradise. If only she’d recognised that sooner, instead of fighting herself.

Vinca sighed, slowly rising to her feet. Determination burning through her veins. Once chance. One single chance was all she needed. A way to break through, to give everything she had left. The ring hiding in her pocket, a led feather. It’d always felt so heavy, despite being so light. Now, it was the wind beneath her broken wings, the only thing preventing her freefalling, plummeting to the earth like the lone tear gathering in her eye. She watched, saw Rae grab her fallen knife. Stared over the precipice. She was not brave enough to watch, to see that moment unfold. She had to close her eyes, to let that silly little tear fall as she plunged herself into the murky darkness surrounding Rae’s heart.

If there had to be a sacrifice, so be it.

It would not be Rae.

It would NEVER be Rae.


	6. cor unum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cor unum - One Heart

Rae had always heard of happy endings. The hero made a great sacrifice, endured the trials of their mistakes and rose above. The hero swooped in, got the girl, the Hollywood kiss and crescendo music of life… But everyone knew Hollywood was full of shit. It was a series of cucked up hopes and dreams, of self-denials wrapped up into comical tales to avoid the pain, or forgiveness where life would have kicked the shit out of them. As Rae contemplated her existence as it was, she finally understood. There was no happy ending for the characters who never made it. In life, mistakes weren’t undone by an overlay of laughter, or a kiss between hero and leading lady. There was no black and white, no Superman and Lex Luthor. No Batman and Joker. In life, mistakes led to pain, and sometimes there was no resolution. Sometimes, there was no happy ending. Sometimes, there was just darkness. Just a simple question.

How?

Rae damn well understood that question right now. She felt it to the core, to the bone in her mental scape. This was her own mind, the place she was meant to be strongest. The place every war was won, before she even took a step onto a battlefield in the “real” world. But how? How was she going to even win this war when even the act of trying to lift a finger of a single part of her mind was harder than declaring world war three. When she’d fragmented herself so far, broken herself into so many little pieces trying to protect those she loved. For all the window dressings, for all the add ons of experience and DLCS of happy memories, this was all that she had left. All she amounted to. A crumpled figure in a dark room; a world of black with a solitary beam of light baring down on her broken body. How could there be a happy ending when she was so powerless? So broken? 

She’d thought she understood torture, understood disconnection. She’d lived without touch for over a year now, slowly forgetting the warmth of Vinca’s hug, the taste of a kiss. How it felt to have another break so willingly into her hands, only to reconstruct them in the afterglow. Her life had been exhaustion. A visual game of when to pretend she felt, and when to ignore. How long a hug should be held before someone got awkward. If a handshake was too hard. Or too fish wristed. Touch had become sight, visuals and sounds. Life, nothing more than a movie.

How? How had the script gotten so fucked up?

She was meant to be the hero. She’d done the heroic thing. When things were hopeless, she’d sold her soul. She’d agreed to sacrifice the ability to touch another when she’d shaken Vuzgamad’s hand. She’d sacrificed to save those she loved. She’d SAVED them. Vinca. Onyx. Yvette. She’d SAVED them. She’d struggled, for so long, she’d pretended everything was fine. She’d bitten back her tears until Vinca stilled beside her. She’d laughed and apologised when a hug for Onyx was too tight, too painful. She’d done the heroic thing. The hero was meant to get the girl, meant to swoop her up into a cinematic kiss, not beat them into a blood pulp. Not make them cry, make them plead. She was meant to be the hero. She wanted to be. Just once, Rae had wanted to be more than the side chick. More than the love interest. No, fuck that. Rae had never subscribed to the stupid roles and rules. All she’d wanted was to save those she loved, be strong enough for them. She’d been stupid enough to take the deal, to shake hands with the Devil. To sell human touch for the power over Light and Shadow, over all they encompassed… at the time, it had seemed worthwhile. The only way to overcome the odds as a human amongst heroes. For once, she’d been able to fight alongside them, instead of been the one tending the wounds. But the cost had drained her, spiralled out of her control. She couldn’t even identify when she’d lost control. Was it the first time she’d recognised the schemes building within her? The first time she’d answered Vuzgamad’s call? Taken the credit for victories when it had only been the Demon’s words that allowed them? Was it when her mind had snapped, fighting itself until what she identified as herself was imprisoned within her own mind as darkness paraded around, scheming to destroy everything she cared for as she was forced to watch?

How could she save Vinca when she couldn’t even make her body behave?

The horror movie continued, reaching the crescendo as Rae watched her own hand close around one of Vinca’s blades. No! This wasn’t how the movie ended, it couldn’t be! She screamed, kicked and clawed at the bars of her cage, as if her mind was some video game. Maybe if she jumped down the right tube, she might be able to reach the button. To shut herself down. If she smashed the spacebar, she could leap across the chasm, stitch herself together enough to redirect the blade… but she was so tired. Drowning. The water was pushing her into the bars of her cage, the landslide was swallowing the light. Only those solo screens were clear, the screens which showed her baring down upon Vinca… but hands were slushing through the water, digging her out. There were keys in the door, but she was too tired to turn the lock. Too tired to kick. To move her arms. Limp. So close and yet so far… dragged. A solid hand around her wrist dragged her to the door, was pulling her to the surface. 

Then it was lips upon her own that finally granted her the air her lungs had screamed for.

How? After so long, how could she feel the warmth against her? The puffs of agonised breath against her cheek through fine nostrils, the unseemly clunk of teeth against her own. It didn’t matter. She could feel… after so long, she could FEEL those lips against hers. An addiction, a benediction. She gasped, lifting her own hands to a familiar blond pixie cut, pulling those lips into her own. Crushing herself to them. Taking. Everything and anything… This was everything. The breath of life, warm and spreading down her own chest… why weren’t both hands in Vinca’s hair? She’d raised both of them, she swore… but pressure? Firm, warm, gentle. Hands surrounding one of hers. Her right. The hand which had been almost melted around the hilt of Vinca’s blade. The answer was there, just beneath the shadows in her mind, a mind clearer than it had been since she’d shaken Vuzgamad’s hand. A demon… She’d made a deal with a demon! A demon who was laughing as if they’d just watched a comedy. Not just a single demon. All of them, disbelief and malicious glee echoing through the air. As if the unexpected was delicious. As if they’d won.

“Vinca?” Trepidation flooded Rae’s voice as her eyes opened, expecting to find fury reflected in the skies. Instead, she found agony. She found reluctant acceptance, found a lone tear flowing down a beautiful cheek, catching between parted, bloodied lips. There was too much blood. It stained pristine white teeth into a sickly, blotchy pink. It trickled from the corner of a heartbroken smile, the face of courage in darkness. Sunlight after forty days of rain… Bittersweet. Her warmth left Rae’s hands, coming to gently cradle the former mechanic’s trembling jaw. A lone thumb brushed fine lips, urging her to be silent, leaving metallic warmth behind.

“Rae…” Vinca’s voice was a whisper on the wind, a smile given vocal form, relief. A whisper from the heart, exposing everything. Her eyelids fluttered, the weakened wings of a bird… a bird who’d been shot, was bleeding, an arrow buried within its heart. An arrow that looked just a little too much like Vinca’s blade. The Pride assassin let out an overly wet, weak laugh, one punctuated by a glob of red spilling between her parted lips. From her laden tongue. For one bright moment, her eyes shone, reflecting the stars hanging in the stillest night sky. Rae should have known that meant that beauty was already dead, inevitably gone, with only an echo remaining. Just like said stars, Vinca fell, legs giving out, leaving Rae falling under her weight. Fighting to hold the larger body upright as confusion erupted across her expression. It only lasted a few moments before her gaze drifted to Vinca’s chest. Red. So much red. Layers and shades, from brown tinged to red tinging black. Just like med school. Just like the cadavers Rae hadn’t cut cleanly, so they’d begun to bleed over her. Just like a self-saucing chocolate pudding, with the insides bubbling out of a cut crust. A volcano bleeding lava. Red. Insides leaking. Flowing. Cut. Bleeding… the length of the blade rattling within a fleshy sheath.

“Fuck… that… hurt.”

“VINCA!” Rae felt herself shriek, her body erupting into action. A single blink had everything rushing back. The way she’d fought, tried to stop the blade. Vinca’s hands pulling the blade in, forcing Rae to commit to the blow. To the….

“H-haven’t heard you that l-loud for a while, Squirt.” Vinca’s voice was so quiet. So feeble. Weakening. Strength draining with each pulse of her blood.

“Don’t you fucking joke, Wren! I stabbed you! I am so fucking…. Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Just stay still, Vinc, I can fix this. I can fix this. I can you, I just have to… I can fix this, I swear. Just stay with me, please! Please… I can fix this, PLEASE? Let me fix it…” Rae pleaded, her voice raising in octaves as her hands desperately pressed down on Vinca’s chest, on the wound. This. It was her thing. Fixing people. Helping people. She had to do this, had to save Vinca. Had to fix it. That’s what she did. Fixed things. Fixed people. Repaired bikes and flesh. This was HER thing. She had to fix it. She could fix it. She SHOULD be able to fix it. But she couldn’t, she knew that even as she stubbornly denied the looming inevitability. Vinca had lost blood. So much blood. Too much blood. She needed blood! Now! Frantic, Rae began to scoop at Vinca’s blood, dragging it back towards the gaping hole in her chest. Trying to shove it back through the wound, like a child trying to restuff a teddy bear the dog had chewed. Paddling in the kiddie pool… but that pool was Vinca. Fading with every splash. The sheer amount of blood was so slippery, so gritty, leaving Rae’s palms sliding across Vinca’s skin with desperate, frustrated cries. She threw her everything into it, all of her measly body weight. If only she was fatter. Worthy of the biggest loser even. Over three hundred pounds. That she’d stopped exchanging the chocolate bars for apples. That she hadn’t been so dedicated to her fitness. Maybe if she was just a kilo heavier. Her hands larger, more meat and less lean tendons. If she was more flab and less ab…

“Rae…” Vinca implored, fighting until she managed to lift her befouled hands to Rae’s jaw. She trembled, barely managing a brush of her fingertips across Rae’s flesh, leaving strokes of her life as wet paint across Rae’s jawbone. There was something so gentle in her voice, pity and sorrow mixed with that unmistakable fondness she held for Rae and Rae alone. How had Rae missed that? The little tones amongst tones that Vinca held for everyone in her life. Tones which told tales far wilder than even the most drunken buffoon standing on the most rickety table in a dingey, run down bar. Tales more touching than Shakespeare’s finest tragedy. More moving. Rae couldn’t believe she’d missed it, like a ship in the night whilst she was the Titanic sinking into the blues of Vinca’s eyes. She was once again bewitched by the depth of blue. Why had she not appreciated this? How had she not seen? They weren’t just blue, not just a flat shade. They were almost a braiding of blues forming a beautiful whole. Little circles and patterns Rae wished she could have spent forever memorising. They were the sky, she always knew this, but they weren’t just any sky. They were… she couldn’t even process. Never, in all her life, had she seen eyes so blue. Not just their colour, but their spirit. The essence of colour and emotion. Blue. Blue to counteract the red.  
  
No… No. Rae Lang couldn’t accept this, not now. Religious Parents denied their kids were gay for years, surely Rae could master the same level of world altering denial. Maybe Mrs “something smells” down the road could offer her lessons on the haughty head tilt... But Rae knew, deep down, couldn’t ignore this. No amount of denial was going to pump the blood back into Vinca’s veins. Was going to undo the very lethal damage. Vinca Wren was dying in her arms, and all she could do was think how to keep the world turning even as it disintegrated. By the look of understanding in Vinca’s eyes, she saw every torment, every fight Rae was facing. She pitied. Afterall, Vinca knew she was no longer going to be there to save her fiery little Chinese Mechanic. But… just like the ocean, just like Vinca’s eyes, the pain seemed to run deeper. An undercurrent of guilt, until all Rae could do was stare, was let herself fall closer once she noticed the tremble of Vinca’s lip. The Pride assassin growled, a sound more akin to a wet mewl from a half dead kitten in an alley way, yet the sound seemed to be enough. She threw her body into the movement, lifting her hands, tangling her long fingers into Rae’s hair in an effort to hold her closer. She pulled, letting her dying weight bring Rae’s forehead to her own, bring them as close as the physical world could allow. Never close enough.

“It’s you. By my sacrifice, it is you. By the power of us all, we choose you. B- by our decree, it’s you.” Vinca’s voice was so fragile, precious breath given to form such a simple sentence. Her words skimmed across Rae’s lips, hot, laden with magic. The taste of smoke, destruction and sugary sweet. The tang of metal, but beyond the blood of Vinca’s lips brushing her own. No, it was as if she’d swallowed Vinca’s blades, as if they were running molten down her throat.

“Please don’t leave me.” It was weak, a pathetic plea half sobbed, half whispered. The strongest words Rae could summon, the closest to truth she could give. Everything hurt. How her knees felt against the cold floor. How every gash had begun to scab over, only to break again when she moved too suddenly. How Vinca, normally larger than life, was brought so low… the knives within her body, that creeping, molten sense that sought out every pain and bolstered it. Vinca’s sad smile, an expression she felt tickle her own along with the bump of a sharp nose.

“I’m sorry… My soul to repair yours, Rae. My sacrifice.” Vinca gurgled, one hand sliding from Rae’s hair. The Chinese woman sobbed, a broken, bitter sob as one of her hands chased that hand, clutched just above the hilt of the dagger. The strength of Vinca’s grasp was surprising, holding Rae’s hand even when the Chinese woman tried to withdraw. There was something immobile between them, a texture too similar to the hilt of Vinca’s blades, yet so impossibly soft. Nothing she could identify. Nothing she cared to. Not now. 

Suddenly, communication was clear, as if she’d gone through life staring at water droplets across the surface of a mirror, diluting the image, and finally someone had come and wiped them away. Vinca had wiped them away, taken those naturally formed zig zags and streaks away and finally let Rae see everything. She could hear it, a thousand gripes and thoughts flickering around her, all laid out like candy behind the glass. All she had to do was reach for what she desired, and it was hers. No payment. No cashier to tell her no. She could delve into anything, into anybody, shove her grubby fingers into any pie and nothing could stop her. Nothing would ever be the same again. She was strong, unending power, a pillar of the human world and yet removed from it by her very existence. Only the most special would see anything beyond this, beyond the mantle she’d had thrust upon her. People like Vinca. Like Onyx… like herself. Just as she had the moment she’d accidently said gay instead of Rae. Just like she had when she’d asked Vinca who she was, and meant it. When she’d not taken everything for granted, even though thinking like a mirror was so much easier than acknowledging the droplets she could never have erased… the moment she’d unintentionally stepped up and dropped her name into the hat. The only name Vinca had seen worthy, and the only name she’d never wanted to burden with her pride.

“No. No! You don’t get to do this! You fucking… you just, GAH! Stop sacrificing for other people! Stop it! Take it back, Vinc! T-Take it back!” Rae screamed; grief forgotten in her wrath. Fuck this. Fuck everything! Why was it always Vinca? What kind of world would do this to someone so generous? The world, fate, humanity… All of it was a cancer, devouring from the inside out, turning Vinca into a husk with air in her lungs. Rae refused. She couldn’t be another statistic on who’d taken from Vinca… but she was, wasn’t she? A kiss more metallic than blood has passed more than emotions. It’d been Vinca’s gift. Her everything, the transfer of her mantle. Of her soul… Rae didn’t want it. Not when the cost was so high. Yet, greedily, she cradled it to her chest, gathered the power internally even as she physically tried to gather Vinca closer, as if she might ward off death.

“Oh thank fuck. Thinking is so much easier than talking.” Even in their minds, Vinca sounded pained, a fading note Rae had just caught on the wind. The pulsing of beats across a chasm Rae could never cross. A beat she couldn’t tune out, couldn’t fully hear. Limbo. Imperfect nothingness, thus becoming something. Something which would soon be nothing more than the fading note in time, as all life truly was.

“Don’t you fucking DARE! Vinc, take it back! Y-you can’t!” Rae spoke out loud, refusing to accept, refusing to play. Could Vinca even read her mind anymore? Was she even..? There was a difference between them, a difference to Vinca. A difference to Rae. Suddenly, Vinca was no longer larger than life, no longer a sin incarnate. She was so… human. Completely. Rae knew, just as she knew she would take her next breath. Just as she knew another tear would fall, that even superhuman, she could never shed enough tears. Perhaps that was why she bled, her body letting her grief flow freely. A droplet of blood offered for a thousand tears. Her entire body sobbing, staining her hoodie, her shirt, her jeans. Was this why Vinca had always worn red? To hide the tears. To hide the blood she shed?

“I… won’t leave you. T-they can’t h-have my girl.”

“Vinca! Please! I love you, I ca-” Rae swallowed, throat too thick to continue.

“Let me save you… one more time, just let _ME_ save you. Not Pride.” Vinca’s internal plea was soft, a million answers to the questions shooting around Rae’s subconscious. Another blow to the heart. Why now? She’d fought so long, loved so long to get even a skerrick of an answer from Vinca. She’d practically had to get a doctorate in psychology to even begin to understand the complexities of the human in her arms. Now, after all this, she was just being given the answers? Just given EVERYTHING? She had NEVER wanted everything. Never wanted something to just be given to her for just existing. She’d never wanted to be among the stars, not when she could turn and watch Vinca shine brighter. Now though… the stars were forced into her hands, life smiling as it snuck Vinca away, looking at Rae as if she’d gotten the better deal… she hadn’t. The stars, the depths of the oceans, the arcane. None of it was worth Vinca Wren. It was a cold comfort, to hold such power, when the hole in her heart was growing between the slowing beats of Vinca’s.

“This wasn’t how it was meant to go…” Rae whispered, her eyes sliding closed, eyelids only fluttering to let out her tears. She rested her forehead to Vinca’s, breathing in every gasp escaping the former Pride assassin. Dirty, tainted air, more precious than the gems of the world, the stars in the skies, than the mysteries of the deep. Treasure was not simply all that glittered, not when compared to a dying heart. Life. That was the true treasure, the soul the gleam or soot concealing the prize. And Rae had taken it, taken both so selfishly. She could feel it, an inexplicable sense of Vinca filling her lungs, patching the damages the demons had inflicted. Weaving into her being, until where she ended and Vinca’s patchwork begun was almost seamless within. Almost. Rae knew where to look, where to find every gnarled scar, every torment. She would always know those scars.

“I was meant to save you.”

“Right… cause loving me, treating me like a human, reminding me of who I was doesn’t count as soul saving. In every cliché sense of the concept, Rae, you did. If I could… I’d smack you. Just… stay with me.” Vinca’s internal snark was sharp, enough to earn a startled laugh out of Rae. A short burst of amusement and disbelief before it faded. Before Vinca let herself collapse, let her eyes drift closed, lips peeled into a tender smile.

“I don’t think I’m opening my eyes again, Rae… thank you, for a last laugh.”

“Vinc… No. No, no no, stay with me! Just a little longer, please. I can’t let go.” Rae sobbed, her voice shattering, catching in the back of her throat. That one frustrating area, just behind the roof of her mouth, just at the beginning of the throat. It ached in that one stupid place, where no water could reach. Where no pain could truly be soothed. She didn’t want it to be. If soothing was letting go, she wanted to burn. To suffer. She’d live her life in this limbo, these few seconds that stretched for minutes. A novel to explain a single minute. She’d forever be an uncompleted story if she didn’t have to endure this. Didn’t have to listen to Vinca’s final thoughts trickle away.

“I knew. The moment you screwed your own name up and announced you were Gay, I knew… I’m sorry I wasted time being... It’s so cold. Death is fucking freezing, Rae… Please don’t leave. Don’t make me be alone again. I don’t want to be alone.”

“Never.” Rae vowed, projecting everything into the way she held Vinca’s hand, holding with as much strength as was left in her body. Hard enough to crush the bones, bones Vinca wouldn’t feel anymore. Her short nails bit into Vinca’s flesh, leaving little crescent moons, drawing more blood. It wasn’t enough. Never could it be enough. Her hands were too weak to hold a life from the claws of death, even with every power flooding her veins. All she had was a moment, a breath taken, one which she feared would leave her words falling on unhearing ears. It didn’t matter if Vinca heard them or not, whether she spoke in time with Vinca’s final moment of consciousness. It buzzed within her, within them, the sentiment. The magic weaving them together, a final mockery to every deal made with every devil. To everything Pride had forced upon Vinca from the moment love had made her accept the mantle… just as it had led her to lay it down. Just as it moved Rae to accept it.

“You’ll never be alone again, Vinca Wren.”


	7. Manu Propria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Manu Propria - With Ones own hand

The world was still. A cold husk, the surface of a frozen lake. A lake Rae stared down into, watching the currents and life begin to awaken, yet she herself was trapped in frozen slumber. Perhaps, more aptly, she was beneath the ice, watching the evergreen trees in the breeze, forever disconnected. Forever out of season, out of touch. Touch… It had returned, a bitter mockery of her sacrifice. Evidently, whatever she was about to feel, it was going to overwhelm everything the world was prepared to handle. It was seeping through, cracking the ice… Ice. Vinca’s hands had gone cold in her own, the blood becoming sticky, coagulated. She dreaded looking down, she knew it on an intellectual level. Just as she knew what she’d find. The cells which had separated enough to smudge, where blood had separated and diluted and where the thickest bands shackled her to her crime. She knew it all, just as a child might know the sun shone or that the skies were blue. A fact, nothing to be felt, nothing to be acknowledged beyond a glance. It existed, but it didn’t matter, not until it directly affected her. That was humanity as a whole. Indifferent. Uncaring machines of flesh and tendons. Biological mechanics. 

But Vinca? She was so much more. She wasn’t the sky, nor the ocean or sunshine. She was oxygen. She was something so important, something that should have been acknowledged every moment of every day. Every fucking microsecond. Rae had been too human. Just like the loggers, the idiots cutting their oxygen off on an epidemic level, then questioning the pollution in the air. Rae had fucking questioned. She had complained. She had tried to step beyond herself, and succeeded, but the cost was more than her soul could bare. More than her mind could process. Gone… Vinca… The words didn’t belong together, shouldn’t exist. Vinca’s name was written in stars, was larger than the life of the ants humanity truly was. She was cosmic. How could she be gone? How could Rae accept a world where Vinca was just a corpse on the ground? Where Vinca was just a name on a cheap tombstone. A publicity stunt. Where Vinca was the past. Vinca was time, all of it, existence… what was Rae meant to do without her existence?

She was almost numb, moving on autopilot as she finally released Vinca’s hand, slowly rose so that she could open her eyes and not face that hideous truth awaiting her. The chill against her forehead that was far, far from the cold air biting at her drying tears. She had to face it, she knew, she had to face it fast unless she wanted to be picked apart by demons… but they could also fucking wait. The world owed her this moment, owed Vinca a moment of proper grief before everything unfolded. So Rae, the selfish creature she was, greedily took the time. Opened her hand, exposing the objected palmed. 

A ring. Alarmingly simplistic, with a silvery band, chipped and flaking away from a glimmer of rose gold. A secret beneath. A redesign to something old, something precious. The stones were small, a scattering of sapphires, rubies and diamonds. More slithers trapped within the steel than raised gems, nothing which would catch, save for a singular sharpened diamond. A small blade hidden within the fashion. 

Rae blinked. It was pristine. Clean. Untouched by the blood. A final gift, a final promise. A future she could never have, no matter what question may have been asked or what answer she may have given. That was a cop out. She knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, what Vinca would have asked. She knew it as she knew the sky was blue. That the sun rose in the morning. Just as she knew the sun set at night. That the world continued to turn. That gravity existed. That she knew her answer would have been yes. That the ring belonged on her finger, that it fit. That it would never leave, until her flesh was too decrepit in her grave for it to hold. 

“Well… that was unexpected.” Vuzgamad commented, prompting the howling laughter of the demonds ensnaring Rae in her own chains. She didn’t even register the pain as she slid the ring home, as the light of the sun burned through the band, melting it tighter to her flesh, into her flesh. That she could smell herself cooking. All she could register was the ferocious laughter building around her, that the demons finally had enjoyed their fill of her misery and now wanted a new course in their buffet of negative human emotions. She was still surrounded, trapped in the warehouse with an entire gang’s worth of demons, with a demon powerful enough to have avoided Seven Deadly Sins unified. A demon who had shattered them… just as it had shattered her. 

The ice cracked.

Rae screamed. She screamed herself raw, wordless grief given a voice enough to shake the closest demons. She could feel it, their unease building the louder her voice got, turning from a scream to something entirely unhuman. Mind and voice in harmony, projected towards every mind within the building. They would all hear it; they would all feel it…

It wasn’t enough.

Rae was burning, talons of her power digging into her scalp as she clawed at her hair, pulling the burning roots free when they could no longer endure. She dug, looking for an anchor, embracing the pain. Pinkie to thumb, every talon gliding through her flesh, tearing away the stupid expectation. Humans had hair. Hair which little boys pulled, hair which the demons could grab and snare. Hair Vuzgamad had held, had used as a leash to force those disgusting kisses. Hair Vuzgamad had twirled around her fingers, always cooing and crooning until Rae’s mind went blank. Until she was the puppet, the toy. Until she was degraded, crawling back to Vinca as her consciousness drowned everything away. Lying. Hiding her weakness when a single confession would have saved them. As she separated herself further and further. Hair… She fucking hated it. She hated it until it burned, hated until the pain she felt made her louder. Stronger. Hotter. Until shame and disgust reached a height Pride had never felt.

The glass ceiling. Rae met it, just as heat rose. Glass was no different to ice, not truly. It melted. It could form a mirror, or a window clear. It could be clouded. Fogged. What did it matter if the barrier was fired sand or frozen water? Both would melt. Both would crack. Both would shatter.

They both shattered.

The mind was such a fragile thing, Rae realised. Porcelain beneath a sledgehammer. An egg bouncing in her hand. She didn’t even need to strike, didn’t need to fight this battle in the realm of men. In the “real” world. All she needed was to nudge them, let gravity take its toll. Let them destroy themselves… Just how demons played with humans. Letting them pick themselves apart in their quests for righteousness, for holiness. In their empathy, a strength as much as a weakness… Rae had empathy. She had it in spades. Her heart was generous, it was her true virtue in so many eyes. It seemed they had forgotten that a Virtue was not always moral. That, like everything, it was imperfect. It could twist. When she had nothing but pain to share, her generosity was a curse, something beyond what demons could comprehend. Could inflict. But she could. She would.

“If you do not want to die here, kill the demon next to you, kill their hosts.” She spoke loudly, projecting the emotions she felt through her mental scape. Emptiness. Hopelessness. Rage. They were nothing but ants beneath her magnifying glass, nothing but entertainment to her bloodlust. The question was not if they could escape, but if Rae would find them amusing enough to release. If they could earn her mercy when there was no light left in her heart. If they could overcome the environment. Some tried. She could feel them, scampering away, foolish little ants they were. It was too easy to burn, to reflect the light, to ignite a few demons with barely a blink. Then a blink spared for the hosts, before darkness dropped them to hyperthermic levels. It didn’t even need to be the whole body she attacked, not when the brain was so much simpler. Afterall, one could survive their flesh burning, she was breathing proof, but she’d never met anything that could survive gasoline and flames directly across their naked brain. Across their vital organs.

“Now, now, Rae. Sur-“ Vuzgamad never had the chance to finish.

“Kill one another, and the hosts.” Rae repeated, immobile. Her voice level. This time, there was further unease. The hoard shuffled, unsure who to obey, what to do. It clogged the air, like hardened skin over an infected wound. A wound Rae was amped to lance, to eradicate with something beyond flame. Flame would be the balm after what she had planned, the heat she instantly unleashed when one braver demon raised his gun at her. Heat within the gun, reflecting down it. Melting the bullet, the barrel, rendering the trigger nothing more than a clicky toy. Then, ignition. Anything would burn if it was hot enough, even for a split second. Any demon foolish enough to look was blinded. Was burning too. A wildfire in their sockets, melting the skin away as demon and host shrieked. An orchestra Rae could only hum to, smile at with malicious glee to match how the demons had watched her. They’d all been so very fucking gleeful to watch her at her lowest. It was only fair she got to watch them, to taunt them. To play with her food. Food that hadn’t even realised it was already within her jaws.

A few did. A few demons she could feel withdrawing, trying to slip unnoticed out of their hosts, abandoning their meat sacks to the slaughter like pigs… Rae laughed, what else could she do? A tiny bit of heat and the demons were beginning to scramble. A few mind games and these creatures of nightmares were urinating themselves. The fourth one two rows back had literally shat itself, shat himself. Another two had pissed. One was trying not to vomit, whereas the one beside him was quite hungry at the smell of burning flesh… and there was one in front of both of them trying to abandon the sack. That simply wouldn’t do. Rae didn’t need to do anything more than conceive the pain she wished to project and the demon itself dropped, howling, biting at its own flesh. Tearing chunks away with teeth far too delicate for the task. It didn’t matter. Hunger. Gluttony, even, was rampant within a few. Hunger which erupted. The first demons obeyed as Rae ignited the deserters. The war had begun. Gunshots rung, grunts echoed, screams unlike anything the world had heard filled the warehouse. Sloppy slushing, gnashing and the snapping of bones. A horror movie playing out in real life. A scene birthed in Rae’s head given its place upon the stage of reality.

Rae laughed. She laughed like the maniacal villain was supposed to. It all made sense now. She wasn’t the hero. She was NEVER meant to be the hero. She’d spent so long trying to be something she wasn’t. The perfect American daughter. The perfect Asian student. The tom boy. The girly girl. The med school success. For so long, she’d lived to make others proud. Tried to be good enough to bring daddy home. To make mommy feel safe. To be a vessel for everyone to feel good about themselves through. She’d been so lost, flailing around with no dreams… then she’d had a dream. A dream walk into her life on platform heels. A friend like no other. An angel disguised as a sin. An angel with broken wings… wings Rae had desperately tried to mend. It was what she did. Mend what was broken, ignoring her own pain. Just like Vinca. Vinca, however, had been so much smarter than she’d ever been given credit for. Pride was not a hero. It was a sin. Why were all the assassins so married to being heroes when their very nature was villainous? Sure, it was prudent to keep the world turning, it was fun to keep the rabble in line, but heroes? People saw things too black and white to recognise anything but grey was divorced from the concept of heroics. The villain was the hero, and the hero was the villain. It all made perfect sense. It clicked; it turned the lock in Rae’s mind. 

She laughed harder.

“Its ironic, Vuzgamad… You spent so long trying to corrupt me. Trying to make me as fucked up as Yvette, as you… when all you needed to do was take…” She could laugh, she could monolog like a good little villain, yet she still couldn’t make herself look down. Look at Vinca’s corpse. It was pathetic, truly, that memory held such sway over her. Such power… yet it made sense. Vinca had always been her vice, from the moment they’d met, Vinca had been a niggling little detail that made Rae more than herself. It made sense that not even death could take that trigger away. Could take that one splash of humanity she’d sworn to cling to… that she’d married herself to.

“… her away.”

“Well, miss Lang.”

“Wren.” Rae corrected, clenching her fist until the sting of melted flesh and steel almost blinded her. A very potent reminder. A threat, given how the diamond blade gleamed so wickedly in the firelight. Flames? Since when had she… oh. Whoops. Burning demons wasn’t like, as Australian’s put it, throwing shrimp on the barbie. Especially when she was using flames enough to melt steel. Concrete too could burn, as could the boxes and crates, quite possibly their contents. So, that was something to note, cremating living creatures could damage buildings. Duly noted. Filed away for another delicious chance to use it.

“…Miss Wren… I’m afraid this is our parting moment, until you are ready to become Mrs Holte?”

“if melting someone else’s wedding ring onto my own finger isn’t a big enough sign to fuck off, I guess I need to make it clearer.” Rae began, extending her left hand in a violent flick. Everything changed. All at once, the world was sharp, with little pockets everywhere. Little places to reach into and pull little goodies out. As if time and space were a mere inconvenience… could she literally pull THAT from the 1800’s? The answer came flying from between her fingers, a little blade, one like Vinca had favoured wearing on her belt, aimed straight for Vuzgamad’s head. It was comical, watching the startled demon leap to the side, poise and smugness melting away into a shocked, scampering little rodent wondering why it’s hide had been lifted.

“Sorry Vuzgamad. I’m not following orders anymore. You have nothing I want. There’s nothing I want anymore. You done fucked up, big bad.” 

"I'm inside your mother."

"Good for her. Finally getting some." Rae deadpanned, laughter dying across her lips. She blinked slowly, almost like a sleepy cat, watching the evident shock bloom across her “mother’s” face. Oooppps... That probably wans't the response a good daughter gave. Oh well. Beggars couldn't be choosers and all that.

“Honestly, just kill her already. She pressured me. Disapproved of who I loved. Really, I don’t want to deal with the “I told you sos” now that I’m Pride.” Who was she kidding? The moment Vuzgamad had inhabited her mother, she’d lost her. She’d been stupid, lured along with everything. False hope and bitter denials. A human, unable to accept but too smart to deny. After everything that had happened, everything Vuzgamad had done to her whilst inhabiting her mother, how could she ever truly look at her mother’s face again? How could it be anything more than a bitter reminder? And if her mother knew even a touch of it… No. It was kinder to put the rabid creature down. A mercy she had no qualms about delivering. No matter her motive, hatred or love, she was doing everyone she’d ever cared about a favour.

“Well, well. You might just be perfect for Yvette without my help.” The demon laughed, appraising Rae in a new light. A light which had Rae’s skin crawling. A perfect little morsel. What couldn’t she remember? What had she buried? How much about her did Vuzgamad truly know? Was the demon right? Was the demon just fucking with her? Unconsciously, her right hand tightened, summoning every ounce of pain, the source of it all. Finally, her eyes lowered, finding Vinca.

It was so peaceful. If not for the pool of blood, if not for the pallor of her skin, Rae might be deceived into believing Vinca asleep. That this was just a normal morning, where she’d pounce upon the sleeping Wren. That she could take delight in Vinca’s sleepy, grumpy cat reactions before she finally softened at the offering of coffee and food. Where a peaceful smile, much like the one gracing her dead lips, would break through when she thought Rae wasn’t looking. As if she were thankful for that little touch of consideration. But her hair was wrong. Strands out of order… it brought Rae to her knees. Pride reduced to sniffles, to emptiness as her fingers brushed across cold skin, delicately brushing golden strands back into place. How many times had she done that between photoshoots? How many times had they laughed over a little secret before Rae tried to fix something. Some small detail Vinca left especially for her to find. A brush hair across her dashing jaw? A trail Rae’s fingers followed through the snow, right over her throat, over where the pulse should be hammering beneath her radiant skin, and lower. Right to the blade, still plunged into her chest. The blade which had robbed her of further moments. Of the future. Never again. She’d never hear Vinca laugh, not her lioness chuff, nor her mocking sneer. Not even the plaintive, exhausted huff when she had nothing left to give but still tried because, damn it, Vinca loved with her entire being. Exhaustion would not stop her showing her love for anybody. Dead. She was dead. Cold flesh…. Even dying she’d damn well pulled off the romantic ring pass. Like some fucking angel. Even dying, she’d given everything to show she cared. Show her love. Show her forgiveness.

Maybe that’s why she was dead. The world didn’t deserve somebody so… Vinca.

Rae wasn’t even conscious of her actions, not until Vinca’s blade was pulled from dead flesh pressed right over Rae’s beating heart, cradled there protectively the way one might cradle their favourite child. Never. Vuzgamad didn’t deserve to try to paint Vinca out of the picture. Yvette didn’t deserve to look at her and remember anything but Vinca’s arm around her shoulders. The affectionate tussle of her hair, or a chin possessively the crown of her head as she half dozed. Nobody deserved to forget who’d been there. Her shadow as much as the sunlight to help her bloom. And she… she didn’t deserve to forget what had happened. What she’d done. Vinca may have assisted, may have allowed it, but it had been Rae’s hand that had held the blade she’d driven into Vinca’s heart.

“Oh Rae, moping won’t change the fact she’s gone. You’re already so close.”

“What part of get fucked isn’t clear to you?” Rae demanded, teeth bared, the blood trickling down her face, decorating her as a warrior. Her warpaint covered her battered body, blood and torn cloth adding to the visage of something disconnected from humanity. 

“Humans often change their minds once they’ve had time to calm down. Loyalty is a foreign concept to many.”

“Not to me.” Rae stated in a voice little more than a challenging whisper. It didn’t need to be. In the silence after the carnage, her intent echoed. Her eyes took on the hue of her light, the colour draining away, the warmth sucked away, leeched into her burning hand. A hand impervious to the temperature, laid across a blade that was not. Impervious to her own power Rae’s skin may have been, but the heat of the blade sizzled. Smog fell from her chest, the slag of Vinca’s blood forming an ink flooded by guilt. It burned into the wound, into Rae’s chest, smoking until her trembling lips were obscured. The twitches of her pain hidden. She thought she’d understood physical pain, through every injury she’d endured, that she’d inflicted. She’d been so stupid. This pain was beyond physical. It twisted and snared, weaving from her skin to her heart. Through every vein, as if she were trying to wrench her own soul from her body, as if attacking herself a million times over. It was still nothing compared to loss. To the moment her mind had snapped. This, the worst pain she’d physically endured, was her greatest salvation. She could FEEL it. After so long, she could feel Vinca again. She could feel touch. It was overwhelming. The purest agony… and it would remain. Nothing would tear this away, not her healing body, not skin grafts and treatments. This, the scar she inflicted, was forever. Nasty, deforming even, from collarbone to nipple. A breast no man or woman alive would ever wish to caress. A claim that none could challenge. An offering to the dead. One made in silence. Not a single scream, not a single grunt or tear escaped. She was stoic. Immobile. Eyes closed as if she had just taken a sip of a delightful coffee on a cool day, instead of taken her first step down the path of ritualistic scarring. It was, despite the pain, a release. A calm burn, something she might let herself sleep to in lesser circumstances… or was that her brain fighting just how pained she was? Had she reached the depth of human tolerance? Or had she found the wellspring of endurance? A Zen? Her way?

“I must praise your grasp of dramatics. Truly splendid. Showstopping. Pettier than a demon.” Vuzgamad acknowledged, reluctantly bowing her head to the insane human. Rae could read it; exactly how impactful her motion had been. 

Vuzgamad was intimidated, quietly regretting what she had unwittingly created. Vuzgamad had expected something malleable, something controllable… Rae was beyond. In this human, Vuzgamad saw a wolf, a hell hound. Whatever had transpired, it was a miscalculation, a mistake. Enabling this beast was a mistake, yet… to unleash it. To see it in action. Demons thrived in chaos, even against their kin. What could this Sin do when pushed? A demon should be incapable of fear, yet over a hundred had tried to flee, had turned on one another like rabid beasts at the command of a mere mortal. It was thrilling. Exhilarating. The potential of mortality to an immortal being. A challenge, a wild creature to rope in. Perhaps, this human could become something far more terrifying than any demon could truly hope to be. A hybrid beyond even the Devil’s imagination. The possibilities were endless. The questions blazing out of control, curiosity consuming. If left to rampage. Who would suffer more? The weaker demons of hell, or the humans who turned their backs on her? 

Rae didn’t bother granting an answer with her words. Instead, she smiled, pulling the blade from her flesh. The wicked gleam of arcane light down the tarnished blade was the beginning of her answer.


End file.
